


Truthfacers

by Sara_Ellison



Series: Truth In Fandom [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fangirls, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 12:11:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sara_Ellison/pseuds/Sara_Ellison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel wants to talk about what happened in the diner. Dean doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truthfacers

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the abuse of alliteration (and assonance) and also the run-on sentences and similar mistreatment of the English language. And I really, really apologize for the title, but I'd been trying to think of one for two weeks and this was the best I could do.

Dean was covered in sweat, soil and soot. The fact that the soot had come from the burnt bones of a particularly nasty not-so-dearly-departed made him especially eager to get the aforementioned filth out of his pores. He'd been in a bit of a mood ever since the diner, and Sam didn't argue when he called first shower.

This motel's bathrooms were equipped with rather cheap sliding glass doors set into the edge of the tub, serving to keep the water in while purporting to provide a modicum of privacy. In reality, the faintly frosted glass barely blurred details while still allowing general shapes to be fairly clearly visible.

The motel room had an air conditioning unit, but it was struggling to keep up with the lingering heat of the summer evening. The water in the pipes was distinctly warm, too, another casualty of the climate. Dean stood under the spray, eyes shut as the water sluiced over his skin, desperately wishing he could cool off.

Over the rush of water he couldn't possibly have heard the telltale sound of wings. When he blinked the water from his eyes and recognized the blurred shape of Castiel through the glass, he thought about shouting in feigned surprise or indignation, demanding to know how long Cas had been standing there watching Dean shower, but he found he didn't have the energy for any of those. The incessant heat had thoroughly enervated him. He shut off the water, slid back the door and climbed out, reaching for a towel.

"You seemed upset this morning," Cas said. When Dean didn't answer, he added, "In the diner. When I kissed Sam."

"Did I," Dean muttered. Again, he couldn't find it in him to be surprised at the topic of conversation, though why he was surrounded by men who insisted on trying to talk to him about feelings, he couldn't have said. He rubbed the towel over his head, drying his hair, then wrapped it around his waist, tucking the end in perhaps more forcefully than he needed to. "Why would I be upset?"

"I thought at first you might be jealous," the angel said, "but I assured you that Sam and I are not romantically involved, and that does not seem to have assuaged your concern."

"I believe the exact term you used was 'torrid love affair,'" Dean reminded him, "which, okay, not even gonna ask where you picked up that particular turn of phrase. I'm not jealous, Cas. You and Sam can fuck each other's brains out for all I care."

Castiel frowned. "I had hoped you would care," he said quietly. "Sam is your brother. I know you love him. And I care about you, Dean. I hoped you felt similarly about me."

Dean winced. "I didn't--jeez, Cas, I didn't mean I don't care about _you_. Just that, you know, if you and Sam want to do whatever, it doesn't bother me. I'm fine with it, so let's just drop it, okay?" He would have opened the door, but Castiel was standing in front of it, and in the tiny motel bathroom there wasn't really space to go around him.

"No."

Dean blinked. "'Scuse me?"

"It is not okay," Cas said. "You say you're fine, but I'm disinclined to believe you. Tell me what upset you."

Dean folded his arms across his chest, defensive. "How about _you_ tell me _why_ you decided to kiss Sam in the first place?" As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them; as counterarguments went, it was pretty far from convincing...not to mention he was more than a little afraid of what the answer might be.

"The opportunity presented itself," said Castiel. "I had been wondering what it would be like to kiss a man. As opposed to a woman," he clarified. "Sam gave me an excuse, though I would rather have been kissing you." He cocked his head and regarded Dean, gaze steady and all too blue.

Afterward, Dean liked to think of the sound he made just then as a sort of manly grunt, though in reality it was rather more akin to a whimper. His hands fisted themselves of their own accord in the fabric of Castiel's trenchcoat, gripping the lapels tight as though to keep him grounded, because the angel had been known in the past to disappear at inopportune moments and Dean didn't want him fluttering away like that right now when their mouths were crushed together all hot and damp, clumsy and slick and desperate with his tongue pushing Cas' lips apart to deepen the kiss which was when his brain caught up with his body and realized that yes, he was _kissing_ Cas.

He broke away in surprise, gasping because he seemed to have forgotten to breathe, being occupied with far better things. He straightened his elbows, pushing Cas back against the door with a thump to hold him at arm's length and look at him. Cas looked rather like Dean felt, eyes wide and dilated, breathing heavily. "You could have just asked," Dean said.

"What?" asked Cas, confused.

"If you wanted to kiss me, you should have asked," Dean told him.

"Oh." Cas wet his lips, pink tongue flashing out against the kiss-swollen curve of his lower lip. Truly, if anything about the angel could be called sinful, it was that mouth, all soft and sensual and so sweet. Dean had no choice but to lean in for another taste.

He realized that the knocking sound wasn't his pulse pounding in his ears when he heard Sam's voice, unexpectedly loud through the thin bathroom door. "Dean, you okay in there? I heard a thud. Did you slip and hit your head?"

Dean bit back a groan. Typical, ever-helpful Sammy getting in the way of his own best intentions. Dean shut his eyes and counted to ten, tamping down the surge of annoyance before stepping back and gesturing for Cas to move away from the door. Dean opened it, just wide enough to poke his head out. "Hey, Sammy," he said, forcibly calm. "I'm fine. Thanks for your concern."

"Good," Sam said. "Are you about done in there? I'd like to shower too."

"No," Dean replied. "Go...go get some dinner, Sam. And dessert. Maybe go see a movie. A real long one. Okay?"

Sam blinked in confusion. "What? Why?"

Cas pressed up behind Dean, peering out as well. "Hello, Sam."

" _Oh_ ," Sam said, eyes widening. Then he grinned, far more smugly than he had any right to. "I'll do that, then. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." He spun on his heel and left, shutting the motel room door firmly behind him.

Cas was still pressed against Dean, his hands slowly moving, aimlessly, over Dean's body, and with the removal of distractions, Dean became aware of the way his body thrummed, every nerve alight where his skin touched Castiel. He shifted against him, just slightly--yes, that was in fact a rock-hard angel dick jutting against Dean's hip. Dean groaned; his towel was tented rather dramatically, as well. He turned and grabbed the front of Cas' coat, pulling him forward and out the bathroom door. 

"Where are we going?" Castiel asked, though he went along willingly enough.

"Bed," Dean answered shortly. "Sam's gone for now and I'll be damned if I'm going to fuck in that tiny closet this place calls a bathroom."

By way of reply, Castiel grabbed Dean's towel and pulled it off, tossing it back onto the bathroom floor and startling a laugh from Dean. "Glad to see we're on the same page."

The backs of Dean's legs hit the edge of the bed. He sat and scooted back, expecting Cas to follow, but the angel just stood there, looking at him. Dean was suddenly very conscious of the fact that he was naked while Cas was still fully clothed, veritably devouring Dean with his eyes. Dean's cock twitched as though showing off for inspection.

"What did Sam mean?" Castiel asked.

"Huh?" His brother was the last (well, almost the last) person on Dean's mind right now. What was Cas doing, bringing him up now?

"He said not to do anything he wouldn't do. What was he referring to?"

"I have no fucking clue." Dean frowned. "I'm pretty sure he had an idea of what my intentions were concerning you, and two days ago I'd have said _this_ would be something Sam wouldn't do. But then, that was before I saw him shove his tongue down your throat. I think he likes you, Cas." An odd thought occurred to him. "You know, I think my brother might be a little gay."

Cas just looked at him.

Dean blushed. "Okay, so maybe I'm a little gay too. Shut up."

"I didn't say anything."

"Whatever." Dean sat up and reached for him, suddenly impatient, wanting more than just Cas' eyes on his bare skin. "Get down here, would you?"

Castiel was naked in the blink of an eye and Dean's mind went blank, devoid of any coherent thought beyond _Want_. Cas was gorgeous when he was wearing clothes; without them, he was literally breathtaking. It wasn't until Cas crawled toward him across the bed, all beautiful smooth white skin flushed with arousal, that Dean remembered to release the breath he'd been holding. The angel settled himself between Dean's thighs, his body stretched out along Dean's, skin against skin sparking exquisite sensation. As Castiel dipped his head to kiss him, Dean's hands moved of their own volition, roaming over every inch he could reach, stroking and caressing Castiel's body as though memorizing it by touch. His fingers skated over Cas' sides, across his back, along the curve of his buttocks. He groaned into the kiss, squeezing a handful of that ass. It was a magnificent ass. He rocked his hips up, grinding his cock against Cas.

"Dean," Castiel said warningly, shifting _away_ , maddeningly. His mouth moved down Dean's jaw, down his neck, biting lightly over Dean's pulse point and soothing the sting with his tongue. He trailed his fingertips along Dean's clavicle, a light, teasing touch that he followed with his mouth, tongue tracing the path laid out by his hand. Dean's skin tingled under the angel's ministrations, heated under his touch and cooled by the damp trail left behind. When Castiel reached Dean's chest, rolling a nipple between his fingers until it hardened into a nub and then latching onto it with teeth and tongue, Dean whimpered, arching up against Cas without conscious intent, his hands coming up to catch fistfuls of dark hair, barely restraining himself from tugging too hard as he held on, guiding Cas' attentions inevitably, inexorably lower.

" _Cas_ ," Dean moaned, as the angel's tongue drew a line from his navel downwards towards his groin. "God, Cas, _please_."

Cas, always contrary, raised his head. "Please what, Dean?" he questioned, his voice darker than usual, rough with desire.

He knew damn well _please what_ , but Dean could hardly blame him for wanting to hear it. "I want your mouth on me," he said, "on my cock. Wanna fuck your throat, Cas. Please."

Cas made a satisfied sort of sound, humming in the back of his throat as though considering the request. "Later," he acceded, "if you're good." He pressed his mouth, wet and open, to the crease of Dean's thigh where it met his groin, drawing a groan of agonized arousal from his victim.

"I'll be good," he promised. "Fuck, Cas. Never pegged you for such a kinky-- _ohh._ " His words were lost, forgotten as Cas wrapped his mouth around the base of Dean's cock and then moved lower, his hands gripping Dean's hips to keep him still as he laved his balls with his tongue. " _Cas._ " Surely he wasn't really going to--but he was, pushing Dean's thighs farther apart as he licked a stripe down Dean's perineum. His cock jerked, leaking precome onto Dean's belly as Cas pressed his tongue to the tight furl of muscle. "Jesus--fucking-- _Cas_ ," Dean gasped out, nearly senseless from the fact that there was an angel licking him open, hot and wet and firmly breaching the ring of muscle, pushing his tongue inside him. "Where the fuck did you learn to do this?" he demanded.

He immediately regretted asking, because Castiel paused to answer him. "It was difficult," the angel confessed. " _Casa Erotica_ did not prove as helpful as I had hoped. I had to look further afield for instructional videos."

"Instructional--" The idea of Cas watching gay porn with the intent of learning techniques to use on Dean was both bizarre and arousing. "God, Cas," he breathed.

Castiel had not returned to his oral ministrations, electing instead to press a finger inside Dean as he moved back up his body, kissing his skin as he went. Cas crooked his finger, unerringly finding that spot that made all Dean's muscles tense, his whole body going taut as a bowstring. His cock drooled precome, puddling on his belly as Cas added a second finger, thrusting them slowly in and out in an even rhythm, hitting that spot on every stroke, forcing small cries from Dean's throat, wordless at first, gradually gaining coherence as the angel's teasing attentions drove him towards desperation, "Cas, _Cas_ ," then "Fuck me, Cas, please for the love of God fuck me."

"Since you asked so nicely," Cas growled, removing his fingers. Dean whimpered at the loss, but they were replaced soon enough by the head of Cas' dick, hot and slick with his own precome, pressing against Dean's entrance, pushing until the muscle gave way and he slid inside, biting his lower lip as he breached Dean. Dean arched his neck up to catch Cas' mouth with his own, kissing away the marks Cas' teeth had left in the plush curve of his lip.

Castiel was fully sheathed inside Dean, filling him deliciously, every inch of the angel's cock a bright anchor, keeping them joined. Dean's legs came up to wrap around Cas' waist, his heels pressing into the base of Cas' spine. He broke the kiss, gasping, as Cas began to move, his hips pistoning smoothly, grazing Dean's prostate with each thrust.

"Dean," Cas moaned, exhaling on a shudder. His neck dipped, letting his head fall into the space beside Dean's neck, his breath hot under Dean's ear. "Fuck, Dean, you feel so good," he breathed, panting with each thrust as he picked up speed. Dean rocked his hips to meet him, feeling the angel begin to lose control, his rhythm hitching ever so slightly. "So tight, Dean, so good, I can't--" He bit down at the juncture of Dean's neck and shoulder, stifling a groan.

"Yeah," Dean breathed, "come on, Cas." His hands moved over the angel's body, one pressed against Cas' spine at the center of his broad back, the other gripping Castiel's ass as he thrust into Dean, driving his pleasure ever higher. "Come on, that's it, come for me."

"You want me to come inside you, Dean?" Cas ground out, his lips against Dean's ear. Dean shuddered, the filthy words thrilling coming from the angel's lips. "You wanna feel me fill you up with my seed?"

Dean whimpered, turning his head to catch Castiel's lips with his own, plunging his tongue in as though he could lick that filth from his mouth. "Yes," he moaned, "God, yes, want you to come in me."

"Dean," Castiel gasped, thrusting hard, "Dean, Dean." His pace had accelerated beyond any semblance of rhythm, and he chanted Dean's name with every rock of his hips like a mantra, his eyes wide and bright and so blue. His hand was on Dean's shoulder, fingers digging into the scar he'd left when they first met. " _Dean. Dean._ " He bit his lip again, shuddering. " _Dean!_ " The last one was a scream as he stilled, trembling, his cock pulsing inside Dean as he came.

Dean watched his face, awed. His own cock was throbbing with unsated arousal; he reached for it, but Cas moved quick as lightning, snatching Dean's hand away. He pulled out and slid down, ducking his head to catch the head of Dean's cock in his mouth. Dean screamed, instantly overwhelmed by the onslaught of wet heat, stars bursting in his vision as the sensation arrowed through his very core. "God, Cas!" he cried, his hips bucking uncontrollably, his hands fisted once more in the angel's hair, so hard it had to hurt but Cas didn't object. "Cas, I can't, I'm gonna-- _fuck_ , Castiel--" Cas hummed in acknowledgment of the warning, or encouragement, sending exquisite vibrations through Dean, and bobbed his head lower so the head of Dean's cock bumped against the back of Cas' throat. Cas swallowed around it, muscles squeezing Dean and that was _it_ , his vision whited out as he arched up off the bed and came hard.

It was some moments before he recovered, blinking as the spectrum of his vision returned to mere visible light. Cas had crawled up beside him, wearing a satisfied expression that was almost a smirk. Dean was seized by, and succumbed to, an overwhelming desire to kiss it off his face; he tasted himself on the angel's tongue, and grinned against his mouth.

Castiel slid his arms around Dean, one knee between his. "Dean," he murmured. When Dean merely hummed contentedly in reply, he said it again, more insistently. " _Dean._ "

Dean wondered if he could ever hear Cas say his name again without thinking of how he'd screamed it when he came. "Yeah," he answered, still grinning, "what is it, Cas?" He nuzzled his head against Cas' shoulder, for all the world like a post-coital affectionate kitten.

"You never answered my question."

Dean raised his head to look down at Cas. "Which question?" he asked, genuinely confused. "The one about you coming inside me? Because I think--mmf..." Castiel cut him off with another kiss.

"No," Cas said, sounding exasperated but Dean was reasonably sure he was suppressing another self-satisfied smirk. "The one about you being upset in the diner today."

"Oh." That one. Dean winced. "You want to know why I was upset when those fangirls started going on about me and you? Because I wanted it to be true. I wanted us to be together, the way they were talking about, and I didn't know if you had any idea, or any of the same feelings, and it hurt so much to think you didn't that I'd rather have not thought about it at all."

Castiel tightened his arms around Dean for a moment, squeezing him firmly. "I do," he said. "Have those feelings, I mean."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, I kinda figured as much." He reached down and drew the sheet up over them, pulling Castiel's body close against his own.

Angels may not need to sleep, but as Dean listened to Cas' slow, soft breathing, he reflected that _need_ had much less to do with anything this evening than _want_. The angel's brilliantly blue eyes were closed; his chest rose and fell in a gentle rhythm, pressed against Dean.

Sam returned to the motel room as Dean slipped toward drowsiness himself, but he raised his head as the key turned in the lock. "Hey," he said softly, so as not to wake Cas, "how was the movie?"

Sam shrugged, eying the somnolent angel. "Not terrible. How was the sex?"

" _So_ much better than 'not terrible'," Dean answered, unable to keep a grin from his face.

"It was fucking incredible," Cas put in, startling a laugh from Dean. His eyes were still shut.

"You made the angel swear!" Sam observed. "I'm impressed, Dean!"

"He made the angel scream," Cas informed him, completely unabashed and from all appearances, completely unawake.

"'S true," Dean admitted, proud, although he felt himself blush. "He screamed my name." He yawned, stretching until his joints popped, then settled in against Castiel once more. "Get the light, would you, Sam?"

Sam flicked the switch, and Dean heard him undressing in the dark. "No fucking while I'm in the room, okay?" he said, bedsprings creaking from the other side of the room as he lay down on his own bed.

"Fair enough," Dean agreed.

Beside him, Cas murmured something that sounded suspiciously like "No promises."

**Author's Note:**

> Part of this was written while drunk. Could you tell?


End file.
